


Maybe Tomorrow

by neverfall



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Gotham Central
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverfall/pseuds/neverfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She finds the woman she loves sitting alone on a small chair, hands cradling her face, and Daria understands why Renee’s here."</p><p>A brief piece set during the events of Gotham Central.  Featuring Renee Montoya and Daria Hernandez.  The love between them, and the distance that permeates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Tomorrow

It’s almost two o’clock in the morning when Daria rouses from slumber. The room is dark, no moonlight filtering in, and the warmth of the sheets beckon her to rest. She nearly does, but a soft sound persists. Although it’s one she hasn’t heard in a long, long time, she would recognize it anywhere. Crying.

In silence, she rises from bed, noticing the absence of a sleeping body. The sudden realization stirs a sharp ache in her chest. Leaving the room and walking down the narrow hallway, she already knows what awaits her.

She finds the woman she loves sitting alone on a small chair, hands cradling her face, and Daria understands why Renee’s here.

One year ago, her parents disowned her. A bitter anniversary to remember. For as much as Renee tries to suppress her emotions, remain cold and distant, the truth is that more than anything, she _feels_. Strongly, intensely, much more than she would ever admit aloud. Or even acknowledge to herself.

What is worst of all isn’t the prejudice she endures from the Department. Not even the silent disappointment from her father. Nor the threats of eternal damnation from her mother. No, what devastates Renee the most is the knowledge that one lie could bridge the unfathomable distance between them. She knows that a simple act, one that would appease her parents, will have them welcome her home again. One that would betray who she is.

She’s tired of living in dishonesty.

The very idea fills her with an uncontrollable resentment, almost as powerful as her conflicting love for them. Her fists clench, even as she holds back tears, and the rush of emotion fuels her indignation. Renee can’t remember ever being so angry; each day, it worsens. The ire creeps slowly until it threatens to overwhelm her. She wonders when this suffocating wrath started to emerge from her soul, or if it’s simply been there all along.

Some days, she’s disgusted by it. Other days, she’s tempted to embrace it.

The sound of footsteps make Daria’s presence known; instantly, Renee stills, as her posture tenses. The almost imperceptible trembling of her shoulders stop. Without waiting for Daria to speak, she reassures her with words that are harsher than she intends.

"I’m fine, Dee. Go back to bed."

"Baby, listen. You can tell me—"

"Daria. I’m _fine_.”

She remembers that tone. Her voice was the same when she followed Renee outside of her apartment, after she pummeled Lipari to the ground. Daria asked for an explanation then, too, but the solemn, stern look in her eye ceased her curiosity.

Daria’s gaze fixates on her profile, and she wonders if she should protest. There are times when she wants to, knows that this barrier Renee builds grows a little higher, a bit stronger each day. The small rift continues to expand, and her greatest fear is that it will be the ruin of them. But ultimately, she concedes. She doesn’t have the heart to reprimand Renee, not when she’s already been through so much.

There are other ways to show solace. Daria knows that, above all, what Renee needs is support. Love. The kind without any strings, unconditional in its purest form. The type she’s been denied for far too long.

There’s a certain comfort in silence, and Daria is willing to wait.

 _Maybe tomorrow_ , she thinks. _Maybe she’ll tell me tomorrow_.

After another lingering pause, she slowly heads back to the bedroom. Renee doesn’t glance up, instead contenting herself with the sound of retreating footfalls.

She’s cried in front of her before. That moment in Daria’s car, after the confrontation with her parents. She didn’t want to then, yet the crushing reality, the awful sting of rejection, left her little choice. She wept and wept and couldn’t recall how long she stayed in her arms.

She promises that it will never happen again.


End file.
